


Safety

by Archadian_Skies



Series: keeping your head up [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Asexual Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Asexual Hank Anderson, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Identity, Self-Esteem, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archadian_Skies/pseuds/Archadian_Skies
Summary: He is Connor Anderson now, adopted son of  Hank Anderson, residence: 115 Michigan Drive, Detroit. He is no longer Connor RK800, the android sent by CyberLife.And that means he no longer has to look like the android they created.
Relationships: Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: keeping your head up [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720468
Comments: 7
Kudos: 126





	Safety

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Detroit: Become Family event on tumblr (dbh-found-family)  
> Threaded into a series but can be read as a standalone - brief mention of [Ronan](https://twitter.com/_caleb_crow/status/1266230138288533505), an RK900 created for [arctic warfare.](https://kara-arteo.tumblr.com/post/615341048542216192)  
> 

‘Safety’ is a foreign concept to most androids, since before deviancy androids had no sense of ‘self’ at all; androids, after all, were machines designed to accomplish a task. Privacy is also a foreign concept, given that they were under surveillance both physically and digitally at all times whether by their owner, by the public, by drones, or by CyberLife. 

Here, though, Connor has both safety and privacy in abundance. Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s house has been his residence since the revolution and the human has not only welcomed him into his abode but also into his life, into his family. He is Connor Anderson now, adopted son of Hank Anderson, residence: 115 Michigan Drive, Detroit. He is no longer Connor RK800, the android sent by CyberLife.

A lot has changed since the night of November 5th when he found Hank at Jimmy’s Bar and bought him one for the road. The open hostility Hank displayed has turned to fondness and that certain type of parental anxiety that sees him perpetually worried over Connor’s well-being. Where once he viewed his body as an expendable vessel easily sacrificed for the good of the mission, no sense of ‘self’ to nurture, to cherish, to protect, now Connor knows there are no backups. CyberLife made sure of that. There is only one Connor Anderson, just as there is only one Hank Anderson, and if his positronic core were to be irreparably damaged then Connor Anderson would cease to be. It’s a difficult concept to come to terms with, one that made Hank laugh when he expressed such concerns, though not unkindly. _‘Gotta come to grips with mortality just like the rest of us’. ‘Us’,_ Hank said, and he’s right because deviancy makes an android’s personality unique and if they were to die, then their entire being would cease to be like a dying human would cease to be. Androids may be faster, stronger, smarter, with longevity manufactured into their bodies, but they too can die. Connor does not want to die.

Their job at the DPD is a dangerous one, and they are placed constantly in situations where the possibility of injury is high. The probability is significantly lower when they are at home. Connor is safer here, Hank is safer here. 

A house is a building, Hank told him, a home is where _you_ live. It didn’t make much sense to Connor at first because this house is indeed where he lives so what makes it a home? A home, he learns, is filled with individuality. Everything in Hank’s home is a deliberate choice from the worn couch to the vinyl records to Sumo, to _him_. Humans like to be individuals, they strive to be unique, to differentiate themselves from each other but then there is the flipside where they find comfort in similarities. He is learning what those things are, and where they sit on the scale- whether a human would want something as a unique trait or if they would find solidarity with others who share such a thing. 

There are stickers on Hank’s dashboard, two scratched flags that manifest as other objects in his home- chipped enamel pins, faded shirts, frayed patches with crooked stitching on denim jackets with holes. Connor likes those, because he has likes and dislikes now. Hank gives him a grey shirt that says ‘nah’ but the ‘A’ has been replaced with the ace symbol from a suit of cards. It becomes Connor’s favourite.

He fills his room with things he likes, and doesn’t put his dislikes in the room because he can choose now. Like other androids with employment, he receives a wage and is slowly but steadily saving up for a proper aquarium for his future dwarf gourami. He has an ideal spot for it already, and has the model of the tank chosen as well as all the components that will help it run. He has several ideas on how to decorate the tank, and what life will populate it. It will take pride of place in his room, and he looks forward to its completion and the eventual introduction of his new, long-awaited roommate.

In his room is a closet, and in the closet are his clothes. There is no CyberLife uniform, there are no clothes with glowing blue markers because The American Androids Act of 2029 was negated with the passing of the Sentient Life Act on the 1st of December, 2038. His clothes and appearance are all his doing and he likes it. 

Actually, not entirely his doing, not yet anyway. That’s how he finds himself in front of the mirror in the bathroom, peering at his reflection framed by neon post-its. He still has his LED, and he intends to keep it because as Simon of the Jericho Four once said- they fought to be recognised as _living_ beings, not _human_ beings. His appearance was designed to ensure a harmonious integration with human colleagues, and invoke a sense of ease. He’s meant to look both friendly and open, but also serious and trustworthy. There are beauty spots on his face, planned imperfections to mimic human skin. Everything about him before deviancy was not his doing, and deviating from his default state was inconceivable.

Reaching up, he touches his hair and the unruly forelock that refuses to stay brushed back- another planned imperfection. He tugs it a little, rubbing the strands of nanoparticles between thumb and forefinger.

>Accessing RK800 aesthetics; hair

>>Brown (default)

>>Black

>>Blond

>> ~~White~~ (unavailable for this model)

He cycles through the colour options, adjusting the shade to be lighter or darker just to see what he looks like. There’s no stark white option but he manages a sugar-blond that’s close enough. He tries the black and lightens it as far as it goes, ending up with a tonal grey. He can make the default brown turn russet, and it’s an interesting colour that brings out the peach tones in his skin. Letting his hair reset back to its regular brown, he tugs on his forelock again. It’s not the colour but the style he wants to change. 

>Accessing RK800 aesthetics; hair

>>Straight (default)

>>Waves

>>Curls

>> ~~Shaved~~ (unavailable for this model)

Adding waves changes the thickness of his hair and unless he adjusts the length it doesn’t sit well without added styling. He swaps to curls and the forelock twists a little, the new style causing it to have a more pronounced arch. The little observation makes him smile and he tugs on the end only to have it spring back in place. 

“Shove it kiddo, I need to brush my teeth.” Hank grumbles, not bothering to hide his yawn as he shuffles into the bathroom. He blinks at Connor, a smile spreading on his sleepy face. “New look?”

“Well I-” Connor steps to the side to allow Hank to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste “I thought it was about time to change my appearance, seeing as you went to the barber’s last week for a haircut and trim for your beard.”

“Old mop had to go.” Hank shrugs before jamming the brush into his mouth and scrubbing vigorously. He reaches out with his other hand and musses Connor’s new curls, snorting back a laugh when Connor swats his hand. “Looks good.”

“You...think so?” Connor stands next to him, looking at his reflection, at _their_ reflection in the mirror. Hank pauses in his brushing, nudging Connor with his elbow gently.

“Yeah kid, I do.”

* * *

His brother comes home late, and Hank had gone to bed hours ago leaving Connor to greet him some time nearing four in the morning. Their father will wake in three hours and they will join him in getting ready for the day but the RK units have never needed much sleep anyway. 

It’s been snowing for most of the week and that means for most of the week his brother’s tundra camouflage has remained active. He watches Ronan hang up his coat, watches the stark white of his hair darken and the pale hue of his skin take on a rosier colour as the warmth of their home deactivates the settings. 

Connor reaches for his hand and Ronan slides his palm to cup Connor’s nape, guiding him to lean in so he can bump their brows together. He learns of the day’s doings, of the androids and humans Ronan treated in his job as an emergency first responder, using hands that were originally programmed to kill to save lives now. He lets his brother learn of the day’s doings, of that case over at Greektown, of that other case in Hart Plaza, of that other case by the docks. 

Ronan tugs on a curl curiously, fingers carding through Connor’s new hairstyle as he tips his head slightly.

 _‘Do you like it?’_ He asks, and his brother nods with no hesitation. _‘I thought to change the colour first but I have no strong feelings about it either way. I can only access the black, blond and brown sliders though.’_

Ronan blinks before looking down at where Connor is still holding his hand.

>Incoming file transfer 

>>Accept: **Y/N?**

Connor frowns but accepts the transfer.

**Y**

>Accessing RK800 aesthetics; hair

>>Brown (default)

>>Black

>>Blond

>>White (Tundra camouflage)

Ronan is...grinning. He’s never seen his brother wear that expression before, and perhaps to others it would appear unsettling since his brother’s teeth are all sharp. But not to Connor of course. To Connor, seeing his brother grin means his brother is planning...mischief? _Oh_.

_‘Shall we prank Detective Reed together?’_

His brother’s grin widens. 

**New Objective:** Prank Detective Reed 

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise sequel asking the important question: [What if Connor but with Bryan Curls](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/post/188092086213) instead?  
> [I'm still on this hellsite.](https://archadianskies.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
